Always Second Best
by MoonSpider95
Summary: When someone is always able to top you. When you're never good enough. When you want nothing more than what he has. OC FIC. It gets angsty later...The Envy referred to in character description should become clear to you at some point.
1. Unpleasant Child

**A/N: NOTICE: This is an OC story. It depicts a relationship with Edward Elric which may become romantic at some point, but that is not the soul purpose of the story. Simply, it is just about always being second best. Mello (Death Note) should know the feeling.. **

**I own nothing.**

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Marcia Livius was normally happy enough. At least, she'd like to think she was happy. She was adopted, but her new father raised her the best way he knew how. He gave her love and enough food and clothing to get her by. They never had much, but Marcia always made the best of it. She never let anything stand in her way. Every now and then a friend would visit - a Miss Illira Hedrick, a girl the same age as her living in an encampment that housed both Amestrians and Ishbalans - but she would soon return to her village. Illira was on a mission with her parents to unite the two races, a goal that seemed impossible to Marcia. Still, she missed her old friend exceedingly each time she left. She kept a picture of her in her bedroom, respecting her ambition.

Marcia had ambition too. She practiced alchemy every day, hoping to one day become a State Alchemist. There were people against the military, sure. But the way she saw it, any previous wars were the fault of whoever was at the head of power at the time. Her true respect would lie in the soldiers. The ones that pressed on in their duty, no matter what, for the good of the country. So, Marcia would stay up, night and day, studying the Period Table, practicing her equations, and perfecting her alchemy. She could be seen as a child prodigy.

However, Marcia became angered whenever she looked out the window. Once in a blue moon, she would see the Elric brothers and little Winry Rockbell at play. They all seemed so carefree. In her eyes, with such abandon, they would never amount to anything much more than shopkeepers and automail mechanics inside of Risembool. What on earth made them relax so easily? Didn't they ever think about the future? Didn't they ever...

"Marcia? You in here?" After soft knocking, she girl turned her head to see her father, Malcom, walk in with a hot plate of chocolate-chip cookies.

She rolled her eyes and then returned them back to her papers. "What do you think?"

He frowned at her scorn and lowered the cookies on her desk. "What do I think? I think you work too hard!" He playfully pushed her so that she was leaning to the side, against the wall, then slowly moving back into place, never taking her eyes off of the alchemical equations. Though, she did take a bite of a cookie. Her dad was an immaculately good cook, if not anything else.

The parent's concern was evident. "Marcia...you know your counselor wants you to interact with people." He looked out the window to the running blonde children. "He's afraid you're becoming antisocial, obsessed with this alchemy..." He looked back to her, worried. Even at such a young age, she had a gaze that would make ice shatter. Almost as if it were absent of any joy.

She lashed back at him. "That guy is a total joke! I'm not obsessed; I just know what want! I want to be a State Alchemist and I'm working hard to do it."

Old Malcolm laughed and pointed out the window to Edward, who was helping his younger brother out of the mud. He said jokingly, "Well, you have some competition! That Elric kid ... I talked to Trisha the other day, and his alchemy is getting better and better each day. If only Hohemheim were here to see it..." He looked off, as if lost in memory.

Marcia snapped him out of it. She grumbled into her notes. "Like hell he's better than me..."

Not knowing what to do, the adoptive father only left the now-cooled cookies with her and left her room, looking back one last time before shutting the door completely.

Marcia felt a sudden wave of guilt after making her father leave. Her features softened. She took one more look at Illira, wishing her there with her. Illira's inescapable optimism was something she needed. But then, when Marcia only welcomed her books for company, her old friend was nothing more than a far-away memory. Her studies would guide her and she knew it. And no one - not the nay-sayers, not limited study time, not Edward - would ever keep her from accomplishing her dream. She would be a State Alchemist, and she would be the best. No matter what it takes.


	2. State Alchemist

The girl sat at the south exit of the Central building. Everything Marcia had worked for had come to this moment. All of the endless nights studying would finally fruit before her. She had known for so long that she had wanted to become a State Alchemist. And now it was about to happen.

The physical exam was no problem. Her body was always at peak condition. Marcia even ran for miles after indulging in cookies. She would make something of herself, she promised. The very best. The only thing that could be an obstacle was the actual knowledge of alchemy.

In truth, nothing about alchemy came easy to her. In order to deconstruct and reconstruct and object, you need to understand their molecular structure and think about how you need to alter it on that level. What if someone simply didn't have a mind for science? What if someone wanted to perform alchemy but couldn't understand the finer points of the elements? That's why Marcia worked so hard. She forced herself to be able to remember. She forced herself to have a scientific mind. She had no talent; that much she had come to terms with. But, with anything, you can gain expertise through experience.

When an officer from Central called in her for her exam results, Marcia was almost in tears. She would get the word now - was she in or out? She was so young, of course there would be other chances to become a State Alchemist. After all, there was only one other child her age even trying to join. That was surprising, but it didn't deter her. The only thing that rattled Marcia's nerves was having finished the exam. She answered every question. She used every amount of brain power she had. Marcia was then slipped a sheet of paper as evaluation.

Her heart broke on sight.

They had rejected her. Marcia _wouldn't_ become a State Alchemist. Everything had been for ... nothing. According to the letter, her score was just below that of another, taking her place in that year's recruitment quota. The end of the letter encouraged her to try again the next year, but wouldn't the same thing happen again? How could anyone reject another and then ask for another chance? Wouldn't they say the same the next time? Don't they say that _every_ time?

She wanted to scream, but nothing came out. Her eyes became rivers as she walked back out of the entrance, not making a single sound as she did. Turning her head, looking through the deep locks of hair that blocked her view with her head hanging as low as it was, she could see a couple other officers talking to a blonde kid that had apparently taken the exam. He was being called to the Colonel's office. He was being given his pocket watch.

Marcia's chest heaved and heaved in equal parts sadness and resentment. She recognized him. Elric. The show-off from Risembool. He had taken her place. He was the reason she wasn't accepted.

And she would never forgive him.


	3. Reflection

_People ask me why I am so determined to become a State Alchemist. My father included. What's so special about it? What's gotten me so obsessed? The answer is so very simple. Even if alchemy never came naturally to me - even if I had no talent for it whatsoever and I had to study all night just to understand the concepts behind chemical make-up - it was all I had going for me. _

_I had no talents. I wasn't book smart. Wasn't exactly street smart either. Reading gave me a headache. Woman's work, baking and cleaning, was far too boring for me. I couldn't write or draw for crud. I had no outstanding interests that people could tell I could make a career of one day. Even at the tender age of twelve, I had to ask myself "What is my calling? What am I meant to do?" I asked my father what he thought my talent was ... and he said my talent was a being a good person with a kind smile. Baby talk. I'm old enough to know an adult's answer to where there is no answer._

_Even my father could see that I was useless._

_But alchemy was something different. It took a lot of effort, no doubt. As I previously said, I'm hardly a scientific mind. Alchemy may look pretty from afar, but there is a lot of knowledge that is built into it, that makes it possible. The first time I learned of alchemy, it took three weeks to learn the simplest transmutation. But, oh, the moment it actually worked..._

_That bright, engulfing flash of light. That entire scene of an object morphing and converging in on itself at your will. And then ... it became something else entirely. I actually managed to change my textbook into a dinner plate. It was wooden with the material being comprise of mostly paper, but I had to arrogance to actually have a victory meal off of my transmutation that day. Wooden or not, the food still tasted delicious. And me? I felt like I had performed magic. _

_Because that's what alchemy is. Whether it's a magic that takes the principals of science or a science that makes you feel like you're doing magic ... it is all so abstract. It's anyone's call. So, even if I was horrible at alchemy, even if I was the slowest learner on the planet, it was the only shot I had. I knew it from right then and there. _

_And then, after the alchemy exam, there was one last spot open. And it was taken by a child my age. Who would have thought it, right? I didn't think much of Edward Elric when we both lived here in Risembool, but, thinking back on it, he always did show more talent than me. He always did show more potential. _

_But ... how could he? _

_He seems like such a strong, fit boy with the world ahead of him. Why did he have to do it? Why did he have to take this away from me? It was beyond cruel! If I just had that extra flare it would have been me who had been State Alchemist. It would have been me who would have become known as the Child Prodigy and the Hero to the people just a little while afterwards. Instead, there was nothing else for me. I could have taken the exam the next year or the year after that, but how would it change? I've studied to my fullest. I understood the most I will ever understand. There was nothing more for me to grasp._

_But anger filled me that night. I sneaked out of my house, my father none the wiser. I came back to the central building and found a drunk passed out along the pavement close to it, and empty bottle of alcohol beside him. I picked it up over my mouth and shook it, coaxing just a drop or two of the mix to fall onto my tongue and give me some form of release. _

_I was never able to get my hands on more, but I should have been. What kind of stupid laws kept children from drinking anyways? We could have just as many reasons to loathe and self-pity as any adult could. Years passed. I was fifteen before making the big decision. Any normal person would have recovered by then, but look at what surrounded me! I would constantly hear from the neighbors at least how the great Edward Elric is becoming a legend among State Alchemists. I wanted to find another talent, another way out, but, when I am constantly reminded, how can I find room to breathe? How can I move on when I keep getting pulled back? My family tried to console me, but they were only my adoptive family. I loved them, so I don't know why it made a difference. But it did._

_So, at fifteen I made the big decision._

_I climbed up to the attic of my house, having discreetly acquired rope from the broken tire swings. I wrapped it around the upper beams securing the ceiling and made a nice-sized loop at the end. I climbed onto a step-ladder and tightened the rope to the right height. I didn't cry and I didn't hesitate. I put the rope around my neck. _

_I was never a religious person, but I felt that anything that awaited me on the other side would be better than here. _

_I stepped off. _


	4. Human Transmutation

"I can't believe we got'm." Edward sat back in Colonel Mustang's office, propping his feet on the center table. Alphonse was very quiet, at a loss for words. He couldn't believe it was true either.

Mustang was watching the rain fall yet again, simmering from how useless he was forced to be. "Envy will be back."

"What do you mean?" Alphonse asked. The small boy's voice inside the armor sounded as sweet and innocent as the day it was attached.

"Because," Edward whispered, "it's just like Greed, but he was replaced with Greeling..."

Mustang raised an eyebrow to that nickname. He thought for sure that Fullmetal made it up just to annoy Greed, but that sounded like that's how he actually refers to him. Doesn't that shrimp realize that's offensive to the prince? Ling is still royalty, after all. Honestly.

Alphonse finally put it together. "So there will be a new Envy soon .I wonder who it will be..."

"Who knows?" Edward dismissed the situation. "I'll just kick his ass like all the others."

Mustang faced him fiercely, thinking not for the first time that the State Alchemist needed to finally grow up. "Aren't you even a _little_ concerned? You don't know what this new Homunculus will be like. He may be able to beat you." He smirked at the child.

"Pfft." Edward nearly laughed at the proposition. "We have bigger things to worry about than one more Homunculus."

Risembool's cemetery is almost never seen. All the tourists come to see is the rural hills and farmland. The peaceful scenery was picturesque but still true to life. Though, just down the gravel road, past a small forest, is a cemetery that spans a handful of acres, serving local families for generations.

However, this night a few lights were visible, floating in the cold air of the tombs. Lanterns were being held on tall poles while the chimeras carried out their grunt work. Moans would have been caught by every ear of the village had any been awake. Dozens of small graves were uprooted and robbed of their contents.

The men did little more than toss the corpses into a wheel barrel. Luckily, one of the chimeras was half ape which gave him unnatural strength. It was enough to, with the right grip, raise the grass turf from the graveyard without breaking a single clump. The only part that was any work was taking out the dirt underneath. With it out of the way, the diggers could easily get to the new subjects that the bosses wanted.

Upon completion, the nameless freaks the dirt and top layer of green to its original place. Come morning, no one would notice that there are so many bodies missing. The men barely spent any energy on carrying them to their 6 superiors.

Father and 5 of the 7 Deadly Sins. They had come so close to gathering in anticipation of the Promise Day. It was bad enough that Greed would only think for himself, but then Envy had to get killed by the Fullmetal brat. They needed a replacement.

Wrath had found time to be away from his office yet again. He felt the approach he endured was best for their purposes. Philosopher stones transmuted into living beings are tricky - he was proof of that. He was the only successful experiment. The homunculi had consulted for days on the subject, planning to do the same to reincarnate Envy. Perhaps, Lust suggested, the problem was the presence of a human soul. The lot were created by human transmutation, when an alchemist wishes to bring the dead back to life. Perhaps with the aid of their Philosopher Stone prototype, they could create a homunculus that was similar to Wrath without the danger of it mixing with actual life. They could create yet another homunculus that ages, that could easily live among the humans.

"Can I eat him?" offered Gluttony with every corpse they went through. With each failed attempt, the group lost hope. It seemed that only the body of someone that was truly consumed by sin could be resurrected. Sloth kept complaining about how much of a pain it was dragging all the bodies into the transmutation circle since the chimeras had long since left.

Everyone had fallen silent. This was a tedious task where everyone sat back and watched when all was in place. Homunculi couldn't perform alchemy, after all. Only Father could create this newly-bred sin. Half of the stock had been used up. Even Pride was beginning to doubt Father. Was mixing their origins with Wrath's even possible? Perhaps the only choices were human transmutation or experimentation - no in between.

Then, the corpse of a teenage girl began to move. Life had sparked in her once-dead eyes. The Orobouros tattoo formed cleanly on the palm of her left hand as the small Philosopher Stone sunk into her skin, absorbed like ink drawn from a pen.

Father smiled. "Welcome, Envy."


End file.
